


Beast in the Maze

by E_Live



Category: Silent Hill (Video Game Series)
Genre: Dry Humping, I'm not really sure how else to tag this, Just really a self-indulgent heavy petting monster fic, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Rape/Non-con Elements, suffocation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 12:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7463070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Live/pseuds/E_Live
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deep in the depths of the labyrinth beneath the Historical Society, James Sunderland finds himself face-to-helmet with a certain geometric monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beast in the Maze

**Author's Note:**

> My first (posted) fanfic, haven't written in a long time and haven't had anyone read through it beforehand, so I apologize if it's sub-par!

Murky waters sloshed noisily about James Sunderland’s calves, cold and slick against his legs. His boots and socks had long soaked through, aching feet blistered and pruned within their confines. He had debated upon taking them off, but thought better of it. Who knew what might be lurking beneath the filmy shin-deep sewage?

 

How long had he been down here? James had no clue. The only source of light that had been offered since his descent into the labyrinth-like halls were his flashlight. He could have been down here for minutes, hours, or even days it felt. James had lost all sense of time, but that wasn’t at all unusual for him anymore. From the moment he had set foot in the foggy depths of Silent Hill, time no longer seemed to matter. All that had mattered to him was finding Mary… A part of him still only cared to look for his wife. All logic and reason told James that if and when he reached that room in the Lakeview hotel, his and Mary’s “special place”, it wouldn’t be his beloved, deceased wife waiting for him. But as sick as it was, the hellish trials he had found himself going through, the horrible and bizarre things this town had shown him... they gave him a twisted sense of hope for answers, some closure and finality in the three years after Mary’s death.

 

It’d be a lie, though, to say that was his only source of determination. Even now, wandering the monster-riddled halls deep below the Historical Society, soaked and chilled to the bone, James could feel his heart flutter traitorously as the image of the woman’s visage was conjured, unbidden into his mind. This Mary, but… she certainly  _ wasn’t _ Mary, was she?

 

Maria. 

 

James stopped, feeling the water ripple and bob with his movements as he came to the umpteenth crossroad - left, or straight? He breathed laboriously, his energy being sapped along with any warmth, the cool and wet air in the tiny halls plucking at his clothes, at his skin. James shivered in his olive jacket that now did little to retain his body heat. He needed a moment to rest.

 

James put his back to the wall, hunched over as he caught his breath. He pushed back his dirty blond hair with one hand, the other occupied with the handgun that had saved his ass more times in the last day than he could count. Had it only been a day? It felt like forever since he had been completely dry, let alone in that nightmare of an apartment building where he had found the weapon. The things he had seen in that decrepit building would be seared into his brain for the remainder of his miserable life, James was certain of that. However long that would come to be.

 

He didn’t think it’d be possible to ever forget that Red Pyramid thing, as he had described it to Eddie Dombrowski. The images of it... brutalizing those other monsters made James’ gut churn like the water at his feet. A creature so monstrous in nature that it’d take carnal pleasures from the other nightmares that roamed this accursed town. 

 

James hoped direly that he’d never see the Pyramid again, and things at least seemed to be working in his favor in that aspect; the last time he had seen any sign of it was at the hospital, when it had gotten Maria. James had been so certain that she was gone, unable to help her as he watched the monster strike her with that enormous rusty blade it wielded, it’s weight slowing it only enough for James to reach safety in that elevator. He had felt Maria’s grasp go limp, watched the light fade from her  watery blue eyes as she had been pulled back into the darkness. James had believed that would be his final memory of Maria, bearing witness to the life draining from a face so familiar but still so different. It made his heart feel heavy, knowing he had just left after that, so sure that she was gone for good.

 

When he had found her, he had been so shocked and relieved. The guilt of what had happened to her (or what James had  _ thought _ happened to her, anyway) had been chewing on him almost as fervently as the death of his wife, that same feeling of total helplessness as someone he desired to shelter and protect was torn away from him by the hands of death. Finding her there, safe and sound, James had desired nothing more than to keep her out of harm’s way. He was still confused as to how she seemed entirely unscathed after being left alone with that beast in the hospital, but even stranger had been her lack of memory that it had happened at all. The idea occurred to James that perhaps he really  _ was _ losing his mind, because if he had seen what he thought he’d seen from inside the elevator, Maria should be anything but okay. Her strange behavior and personality quirks aside, Maria had been fine. Beyond fine, in fact; James’ skin still tingled from where she had touched him through the bars of her cell, her sultry voice echoing in his head, suggestive in their motive.

 

__ _ “Then come get me. I can’t do  _ anything _ through these bars…” _

 

A faint noise of water being disturbed drew James out of his thoughts, instantly falling into an alert state with the pistol held firmly in his hands. Those strange armless creatures populated the Historical Society’s bowels by the dozens. Their shambling gate carried by impressively (and rather lewd) shapely legs, torso convulsing so hard that they could hardly stand upright. The gurgling sound they made, spewing forth that acidic bile-like substance that seemed to constantly dribble from that hole in their fleshy chests.. It was almost unnerving to James how accustomed he’d become to the sight of them, unflinching as he aimed his gun into the tunnel ahead. The creature had yet to stumble into the range of his flashlight, but he could hear his radio begin to babble and crackle with the nearness of the enemy. 

 

James could almost pity them, stuck in a straight-jacket designed of their own mottled and diseased skin, harmless without their ability to spit those fluids, doomed to forever roam the haunting halls of this labyrinth in the complete darkness until they met whatever end awaited them. For a split second, James lowered his gun, finding himself debating on ignoring the threat and saving his scant ammunition for when it’d really count. 

 

In that moment of indecision, the sound had stopped. The radio still faintly burbled in his ear. As useful as it was, the sound left James tense on it’s own, the static leaving him with gooseflesh. Keeping the gun raised, he let go with one hand to turn the radio off for now; he could hear any threat coming at him through the water, anyway. 

 

All went silent as the radio turned off. James strained to listen for whatever lurked in the darkness beyond the rays of his flashlight. The silence lasted for another moment, before it was finally broken. Somewhere in the depths was a faint whistle, like something splitting the thick air--

 

Before he knew what was happening, James found himself being thrown back against the wall he had been resting against with a surprising amount of force, pain immediately blooming from his right shoulder. His body hit with a loud thump, his head snapping back hard enough that James’ vision momentarily went white. James hissed through his teeth as he stilled, and he could hear the sound of movement resuming in the water. 

 

James caught a glimpse of what had hit him, turning his head to see a long, thick spear lodged to the right of his head. The blond spluttered in confusion when he tried to move away, but found he couldn’t. A few more seconds of inspection revealed why. The spear had hit him, tearing through the top of his shoulder and pinning the fabric of his jacket and shirt into the wall.

 

Confusion morphed into apprehension. What could have thrown that, were there traps down here that he had unwittingly set off? Glancing back into the hall that his flashlight illuminated, he received his answer, and it was far worse.

 

Think of the Devil, and He shall come.

 

Before him, framed by the yellow lighting, stood the Red Pyramid in all its terrifying glory… walking straight at James. 

 

The sight sent James’ fatigued brain into overdrive, grappling to try and pull the spear loose with complete futility. It had to be at least half a foot deep into the dirt wall. How stupid could he have been? Of course the creature was down here, why wouldn’t it be? The thing had been stalking him like a shadow, unshakable in its desire to hunt James down like the prey he was, the way it lumbered towards James, nothing if not predatory. And James, the foolish man he was, had ran blind and headlong into this maze under the influence of long-repressed urges and some flirty words, faux confidence inflating his chest. The self-made map his ball and string, James was Theseus, coming face to face with the Minotaur. But in this version of the tale, Theseus wouldn’t prevail - he was moments from being devoured by the beast.

 

The Red Pyramid was only a few yards away now, panic setting in as James struggled to free himself. The action further tore at his skin, the forest green of his damp jacket blooming black in the low light. In a last-ditch effort, he attempted to aim the pistol at the creature, surprisingly still clutched tight in his right hand, but the motion of lifting his arm sent an intense shock of pain through his shoulder, making the young man yelp and recoil. By the time he had recovered, time had run out. The Red Pyramid was upon him.

 

A stitched hand grasped James’ right wrist in an iron grip, feeling the sensation of bones grinding against bone causing him to cry out and release his hold on the gun. It fell into the water with a heavy splash. The only way James could describe the feeling was oppressive. Just being within the creature’s presence made the air around him feel thick and weighted with dread as though he could suffocate on it alone, the growls and gurgles of the monster resonating deep inside James himself. 

James frantically struggled and pulled away from its grasp, a fly entangled in the web. It was fruitless, but uncontrollable, as were the yells and shouts that began to spill from James as he found himself being manhandled by the beast. The Red Pyramid’s free hand grabbed a thick handful of the front of James’ shirt and jacket, pushing him against the wall with an ominously throaty purr. It had caught its prey, and now it had no intentions to let him escape.

 

“Get off, let go!” James found himself yelling at the monster. Could it even understand the words coming out of his mouth? Did it even have ears underneath that heavy, painful looking helmet? James doubted it even had a proper face, and he wasn’t keen on finding out. At this point, all he could really hope for was the swift and painless death he knew he didn’t deserve. 

 

James continued to flail and kick beneath the imposing mass of the creature, but the Red Pyramid held tight, keeping him pinned back. Why wasn’t it killing him, James wondered. Why wasn’t he being eviscerated by those rough stitched hands, being torn apart and skinned or beaten into nothing more than a bloody pulp against the wall? James found his struggles halting, the curiosity peeking stupidly out from beneath the fear, his heart hammering like a rabbit’s within his ribcage.

 

Everything went still. James panted heavily, eyes wide and terrified as he gazed at the monstrosity holding him captive. Then, seemingly satisfied by James’ sudden lack of opposition, the creature tilted its helmet, inching itself closer to James’ body. He went taut at the smallest movement, and heard the sound of deep and heavy breathing. Was it… was it  _ smelling _ him? He had to suppress a shudder at the thought. The strange hole in the front of the metal helmet was crusted with what he could only hope was rust. Even more unnerving were the puffs of hot, humid air that he could feel venting out from the opening. It felt too hot, clammy against James’ cool skin. A faint odor lingered from the creature’s own mottled skin, the scent of oxidized metal and decay assaulting the man’s nose with a persistent sting. Feeling the front of the large metal contraption that acted as the Red Pyramid’s head bump against his lower abdomen, James cringed, eyes screwing shut as he turned his head away. 

 

A rolling purr, almost mistaken for a growl vibrated in the space between James and it. The vice grip on his wrist was relinquished, throbbing with the sheer power behind the grasp. It continued to rumble from deep within its chest as the monster redirected its attention, James feeling a grope at his side as his only warning before the Red Pyramid pushed its way between his thighs. 

 

James felt every muscle in his body tighten. Despite the creature’s perverse nature, it wouldn’t… There’s no way it would…

 

The memories of the apartments returned to James with stark clarity as he felt the something hard move against his thigh and lower stomach, a distorted groan bellowing out from the geometric helmet and vibrating against James’ front. He could feel himself on the verge of gagging.

 

_ ‘Oh God, no!’ _

 

James exploded with a shout, writhing like a captured cat against the wall, clawing and shoving at the Red Pyramid. The creature seemed to hardly take notice of this outside of a mild inconvenience, growling warningly as James grappled in desperation to find some kind of leverage, anything to free himself.

 

“STOP!” James yelled, his hands grabbing the edge of the helmet and yanking up, the force of both hands enough to crane the creature’s head to an awkward angle. And if that snarl was anything to go off of, painful as well; adrenaline was pumping, and James managed to ignore the injury to his shoulder, blood soaking farther down the sleeve. 

 

The creature’s pain gave James a brief spark of hope that he  _ could  _ escape this, and pushed against the Red Pyramid’s helmet harder, forcing it upward. This opened up the underside of the helmet into view of his flashlight, and James gasped aloud. 

 

Fleshy, tumorous growths filled the space beneath, usually hidden from view. It seemed to move and convulse, greyish skin shiny with some unknown substance that dribbled out unbidden from deeper within the helmet. Something dark and wet wriggled, but James had no time to digest any more of what he was seeing before an ominous growl brought him back and his hands were viciously yanked from their holds. His good arm, not penetrated by a spear, was instead pinned above him. 

 

James couldn’t do anything now, the malformed hand that held his captive unyielding in its grip. His other arm was essentially useless, unable to do more than feebly press against the monster’s clammy, damp skin. He was completely at the beast’s mercy, what little of it there was (if any). In that moment, James Sunderland knew he was fucked. Possibly literally… 

 

_ Probably _ literally.

 

His heart sank to his stomach as the Red Pyramid closed back in, removing any space between them. The rough surface of that accursed helm was flush to James’ front and pressed uncomfortably against him from face to abdomen. James and the monster grunted in unison, though for very different reasons. Once again, the blond felt something stiff pressed to his thigh, and James shuddered in horror. He was thankful that the dirtied smock, covered in what was surely several unsavory substances, acted as a buffer. But it didn’t do much to keep James from feeling it as the monster’s hips began to roll against James, slow and hard. 

 

James clenched his hands into fists, short nails biting into his palms. He turned his head to the side, unable to bear watching what was happening before him,  _ to him _ , the sensation of being rutted against making his stomach roil. If not for the fact that there was nothing to throw up, he probably would have by now.

 

On a particularly rough grind, James felt a sickening thread of pleasure, feeling his nether regions stir. He bit his lip trying to muffle his groans, but it seemed to matter not. The Red Pyramid purred against the man, a vibrating sound that felt as though it resonated in its prey’s own hammering chest. James couldn’t help but feel like it knew, as it repeated the motion, harder. James choked down the sounds that threatened to spill, feeling short of breath as he was further pressed into the hard dirt wall behind him. 

 

_ ‘Of course it knows,’  _  James thought hazily, a grunt being forced out of him. Why wouldn’t the creature know? As much as it knew where James was, where he was going. Of course it would know what he was feeling, the secrets he hid even from himself, buried deep within his own foggy mind. He couldn’t hide anything from the monster, this twisted judge, its touch a searing punishment against his skin.

 

James sucked in a breath as the Red Pyramid’s free hand crept up his side, touching and groping as it rose along his frame. The helmet tilted to the side, just enough for the seeking fingers to wrap into the collar of his jacket and pull it open, removing a layer of protection between them. James could feel it seeking the hem of his black undershirt, intent on touching his own sweaty skin. 

 

“N-no,” he wheezed out, his free hand seizing the creature’s wrist, but the Red Pyramid was unperturbed, pushing the hand up beneath the undershirt and revealing soft skin to the open air. James squirmed with a yelp, tugging uselessly as the hand explored his sides and what it could of his chest, the creature’s helmet pinning him leaving it partially inaccessible. James hissed as the rough textured glove caught against his nipple, closing his eyes as he swallowed down a sob that threatened to pass his lips. He shouldn’t be feeling like this, any sort of pleasure surmounted by sickening guilt and revulsion. Seemingly pleased, the Red Pyramid again rutted into James, continuing to pursue its own pleasure with his body.

 

It wasn’t more than a couple seconds later that something peeked out from the helmet, black and slick like some eel. James jerked as it came at his face. He groaned and grimaced in utter abhorrence as it touched his cheek, writhing against him and sliding down towards his neck. A tongue, perhaps? The hot appendage left a wet trail of what James could only assume (hope) was saliva, cold and sticky on his skin. He felt a rush of goosebumps rise on his body as it wormed it’s way under the jacket and towards where the spear had him pinned. It laved over the blood that seeped under his shirt, and the Red Pyramid let out a moan, loud and inhuman. James shivered under the onslaught of contradicting sensations, crying out as the tongue flirted with the edges of where the spear had torn his shoulder, kicking his feet helplessly. The tongue continued to prod and lap at the wound, and James felt the hard line that ground against him twitch. 

 

The Red Pyramid shoved itself hard against James’ body, pushing the air out of his lungs. It began to grind and thrust harder, chasing only what could be assumed to be it’s climax, and James suddenly found that it was much harder to breathe. The creature released the hold on James’ other hand, in favor of grasping a jean-clad thigh and pushing it outward, putting all of the power behind it’s rutting against James’ groin. He let out a weak, throaty sound, though whether it was one of pain, pleasure, or sheer panic was unknown even to himself. James could feel his head spinning despite being pinned in place, becoming dizzy from being nearly unable to breathe. He could feel what little remained of his strength fading fast, his newly-free hand grabbing onto a muscled shoulder. James’ head lulled back onto the wall, staring aimlessly at the low ceiling above him. Weak sounds continued to spill from his lips, all but muffled under the monster’s own bellowing groans of gratification.

 

_ ‘This is how it ends…’  _ James thought, his chest burning. Crushed up against a wall, suffocated while this creature used his corpse to please itself. His vision began to go black around the edges, blotting out. His hearing faded in and out as well, the sounds that echoed loudly in the small halls blurring into nothing more than distant white noise. His fingers clutched numbly to the Red Pyramid as he felt himself blacking out, his watering eyes half-lidded and spilling tears over dirty cheeks. His lips felt heavy as they moved, James’ voice barely more than a raspy whisper.

 

“I-I’m… Sorr… ungh! Sor...ry….. M… Mar…….”

 

James descended into the darkness of unconsciousness. 

  
  
  
  


When James finally came to, he was alone. It took him a few moments to realize where he was, sitting in the sewage that came up to his belly button, back to the wall. His shoulder ached and throbbed, but was no longer speared into the wall. Groggily, James looked around, his flashlight still on and running; besides the insistent aches and bruising on his body, there was no sign that the Red Pyramid had ever been there. It had let him live, mostly unscathed.

 

James sat there in silence for a few minutes, absorbing the memories of what had happened prior to his awakening. How long had been out for? There was no way to tell for sure, though it seemed that the blood from the wound on his shoulder had long clotted and dried. He hurt all over, from head to thigh, and as much as James desired to just sit there and let the hours pass, he knew he couldn’t. If the creature hadn’t killed him, he’d better not squander the chance to continue his journey. Perhaps some part of it had felt merciful, afterall.

 

James pushed to his feet with a hiss, the pain most prominent in his shoulder and around his hips and groin. He let out a low whimper as he steadied himself against the wall he’d been trapped against, shaking the thoughts from his head. He had to get going. Fishing the makeshift map out of his pocket (where it had miraculously managed to remain undisturbed), he also recalled where his gun had fallen into the water and managed to find it after a short search. He wondered tiredly if the weapon would even work anymore. He would find out eventually, he supposed.

 

Standing upright, James took a few more moments, fixing his jacket. He’d have to patch that hole, if he ever made it out of this place. But that would have to wait. Maria was probably still waiting for him, after all. 

  
Mary was still waiting for him.


End file.
